


No Man...

by Kantayra



Category: Alias
Genre: Bad Puns, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-06
Updated: 2005-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-19 02:58:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Syd's curious about the name 'Sark'...</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Man...

**Author's Note:**

> I was chatting with the girls in the [Sark Appreciation Forum](http://sd-1.net/index.php?showtopic=39523&st=180), and we were discussing just where the name 'Sark' came from, and whether it had anything to do with the Channel Island named Sark, and this ficlet just _had_ to be written. So, here it is in all it's, er... _sub_ -glory, my first Alias fic, written in about ten minutes.

“Sark.”

He looked up at the briefing before him, both grateful for the distraction from the tedium of paperwork and on sudden alert. It was never a good sign when she got that triumphant tone in her voice. “Agent Bristow,” he replied politely. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this very unexpected visit?” And unexpected it was. She did a rather impressive job at avoiding him, given that they both worked together – and against – the same office.

Her lips curved with a victorious twist, but her eyes were dark and dangerous. Most any other man would have wilted under such a glare; Sark merely smiled politely back, a gesture guaranteed to infuriate her. Apparently whatever she was there for trumped her anger on this occasion, however.

“You honestly didn’t think I’d check up on you? Find out about your past?” There was the slightest taunt in her voice. Confidence bordering on overconfidence.

That was somewhat troubling. His mind ran through the list of dark secrets she could have discovered about him. His face, of course, reflected none of his concern. “I’m flattered that you find me so fascinating. _Sydney_.” He inserted just the slightest hint of intimacy into her first name. Frankly, he was somewhat rattled trying to figure out what she knew so as to counteract the inevitable attack, and he felt it only fair to return the favor.

She didn’t take the bait, however. “The enigmatic Mister Sark,” she said smugly. “No home, no family, no friends, no past. No clues.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Except for the one so obvious, it’s right in front of your face.” She brandished the manila file folder she’d been carrying in one hand, holding it before him for a moment before dropping it onto his desk.

With some trepidation, he flipped it open…

“The Isle of Sark,” Sydney summarized for him. “80 miles off the south coast of England. Only three miles long. Population 610. With a pool that small, it shouldn’t be hard to track down family, associates…a real name.”

…And he breathed a sigh of relief.

Shaking his head slightly, he closed the folder and looked up at her, smiling that enigmatic smile that he knew drove her mad. “Before you celebrate this inspired bit of research, I feel there’s something I should tell you.”

Sydney frowned, realizing that if she’d hit upon the truth, he wouldn’t be this self-satisfied. “Oh? What?”

He smirked. “My dear Agent Bristow… No man is an island.”


End file.
